Harry Potter: The Beauxbatons Years
by PD31
Summary: Sequel to Lessons From A Grateful Veela. Having moved to France with Sirius, Harry has to juggle his new school, his relationship with Fleur and Dumbledore's attempts to return him to England. There will be new friends to be made and new threats to be faced.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter: The Beauxbatons Years  
**

 **By PD31**

 **Rating: M**

 **Pairing: Harry Potter/Fleur Delacour**

 **Summary: Sequel to Lessons From A Grateful Veela. Having moved to France with Sirius, Harry has to juggle his new school, his relationship with Fleur and Dumbledore's attempts to return him to England. There will be new friends to be made and new threats to be faced.  
**

 **Disclaimer: JK owns the Harry Potter world and all the characters in it; I've just borrowed them for this story.**

 **This story starts in 1995, when part 1 _should_ have been set but wasn't (which was my bad). It begins a few weeks after "Grateful Veela" NOT a full year later.**

 ** _Most_ of the speech will actually be in French (though written in English) – unless the conversation is between two native Anglophones (e.g. Harry and Sirius or between two of the Grangers).**

* * *

Chapter 1

 _Ministry of Magic,_

 _London, United Kingdom_

 _Monday, July 24_ _th_ _1995_

"We HAVE to do this Cornelius," Albus Dumbledore pleaded with Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge as they strode towards Courtroom 10, which was housing this morning's full meeting of the Wizengamot.

"I understand _your_ need, Albus," Fudge conceded neutrally, "and your urgency, but I fail to see why a student moving from one school to another is a matter so important for the country that it merits changing our laws – even if it _is_ … the boy-who-lived."

"Can't you see what a blow it would be to magical Britain, seeing Harry Potter leave our shores?"

"It's a blow to _Hogwarts_ and its prestige, certainly," the Minister countered, "but the Ministry currently has more good publicity than we know what to do with, what with young Diggory getting recognised as the boy who defeated You-know-who and foiled his plans to return," Fudge shuddered at the prospect of the Dark Wizard's return, "and our whole country, pretty much, has been enjoying one long party ever since. Capturing Pettigrew and being able to show our Ministry as willing to atone for the mistakes of past regimes," Dumbledore knew he was referring to Sirius Black, recently acquitted of the crimes that saw him incarcerated in the wizarding prison Azkaban for twelve years, "of course it was embarrassing _on the part of the last Minister_ ," he smiled smugly, "and we rode out the Barty Crouch scandal; useful that we could blame Black's imprisonment on him, show how he pulled the wool over _everyone's_ eyes – and the best bit, all the embarrassing stuff got buried inside the Prophet while the celebrations and the positive stories made the front page!"

"Yes," Dumbledore concurred through gritted teeth, "it was a masterstroke giving Cedric his award and then promoting Amos on the same day you cleared Sirius and blamed it all on Crouch. And then giving Harry and Fleur _their_ awards 'while he's on holiday in France'… I wonder how the public will react to the hero leaving for good though?"

"We'll manage," the Minister declared confidently, entering the chamber and ending the conversation.

A very unhappy Dumbledore followed him inside.

* * *

"I welcome, restored to his family seat, and which is now being taken up for the first time since the sad passing of his father, Member Sirius Black." Fudge stood and led the applause, generous but polite from many in the chamber, as Sirius made his way to his seat; eyebrows were raised when he elected to sit with the so-called 'neutral' faction, but closer to those of a 'traditionalist' persuasion (i.e. the darker wizards). A few of the Wizengamot began whispering among themselves at the statement Sirius was sending out by his choice of position. He ignored it and addressed the body.

"Thank you Minister, and may I place on the record my gratitude to you for personally righting the terrible injustice inflicted on me by your predecessors. The House of Black considers the matter closed." Fudge nodded; the galleons of compensation he'd authorised for Sirius seemed money well spent – especially as it wasn't his _personal_ money used for it.

"I now open proceedings with today's first motion, tabled by the Chief Warlock," Fudge declared. All eyes turned to Dumbledore as he stood; Fudge retook his seat as the Hogwarts Headmaster stood and described his case for forcing Harry Potter to resume his education at Hogwarts.

"If it pleases the council," Sirius called, "why is the Chief Warlock so interested in my godson?"

"Ah, Member Black," the old man replied condescendingly, "I of course have my _other_ hat as Headmaster of Hogwarts. As such I am unwilling to lose such a high profile and talented student from my school and from our country."

"Could you tell us, Headmaster, how many students have transferred from your school over the past decade?" Sirius enquired.

"It's a rare occurrence, hence my intention to intervene…" Sirius cut off Dumbledore's claim.

"The figures just so happen to be available in the Ministry. It may interest the council to know that twenty students have left midway through their education." He turned to the surprised-looking members of the ruling body. "Eight went to Durmstrang – and a handful more _declined_ Hogwarts in the first place to go there – with five to Beauxbatons and seven to the Salem Academy. One of those was the son of one of our brethren," he nodded at one of the 'traditionalists'. "Was his transfer not important to you?" Dumbledore squirmed a little as the student's father nodded and glared at him. "How many of those transfers, _Headmaster_ , did you attempt to overturn through legislation?"

Dumbledore's face ashened at the figures being revealed; while they _had_ to be given to the Ministry, it should be extraordinarily difficult to actually collate it. Sirius pressed home his advantage. "Would it further interest the Honourable Members gathered here to know that a _second_ student has _also_ transferred to Beauxbatons for next year; she is actually a classmate of my godson's and top of the year academically. Could the Chief Warlock tell us why his proposed legislation does not cover her, nor _anybody else_ who may wish to pursue alternative education options? Why is he not loathe to lose _that_ talented student from his school and our shores?" Sirius could see the room was favouring his arguments over the Headmaster's; he then adjusted his robes with a flourish and turned to his colleagues. "It seems to me that our Chief Warlock wishes to abuse his position to bolster his own second job as Hogwarts Headmaster," this generated plenty of sniggers from the assembly, "by depriving our children of the chance to gain vital life experience and of the opportunity to broaden their horizons by learning in another school, another country, and experiencing a different culture." Dumbledore's heart sank as even _he_ could see that the majority of the chamber agreed with Sirius.

The Chief Warlock's hopes were raised as Walden Macnair stood and proposed modifying the law so that it would only allow Purebloods to be educated abroad. Sirius, however, called on the whole Black sneer that his father had perfected; he pointed out that the executioner's old house's founder, Salazar Slytherin, wanted to ban all non-Purebloods from learning magic anyway – so his proposal would be counterproductive to those aims. "It would also," he concluded regally, "be the first time this august body has ever actually legislated discrimination between blood-types… instead of certain bills just implying it or introducing it tacitly," he added to the gasps of some and the ire of many in the chamber, "and in doing so it would be promoting Voldemort's aims – aims that my godson's parents, _my best friends_ and many others gave their lives to defeat. Aims that Cedric Diggory won an award for helping to defeat. It would be a poor way for the Ministry to act so soon after…"

"Thank you, Member Black," Fudge hurriedly stood and cut him off – seeing that his words were antagonising the chamber even more. "I'm sure no-one," he glared at Macnair, "is seriously advocating that we enshrine _any_ sort of discrimination into law. The arguments have been presented; I now call on a vote on the proposal to give this body the power to force a student to continue his education at Hogwarts…"

"One more question, Minister," Augusta Longbottom waved her hand; he yielded the floor to the stern witch. "Does anybody know where young Mr Potter actually _is_?"

All eyes turned to Sirius; he battled hard to keep his face straight.

 _1300 Rue Michel Carola,_

 _Canet-en-Roussillon, France_

"Right then, Hermione, we'll be off. See you tonight?" Mr Granger stood with a smile to his daughter and prepared to follow his wife to the living room, where they kept their Portkeys to transport them to and from their Dental Practice in Oxford.

"Yes," his daughter confirmed. "I'll _probably_ be with Harry and the others when you get back, they'll probably invite me to stay for dinner, so just call either Sirius or the Delacours and I'll head back."

"Ok," he nodded then paused. "Maybe invite them all around this weekend; we'll have a barbecue or something." Hermione smiled and nodded at the couple, who then disappeared.

Hermione looked around the small cottage her family was living in; they had rented a place for the summer an, having enjoyed a few weeks of holiday, they were going back to work for the first time today. Her parents had also made a few trips back and forth, to get used to the idea of travelling via Portkey to work every day (they LOVED the idea of gaining an hour on the trip to England, meaning getting up at a reasonable hour, having breakfast with their daughter before heading straight to work; the instantaneous nature of the trip also meant they still got a fair amount of evening to enjoy after locking up for the night, although being so much further south it did begin to get dark that much sooner). The Grangers currently deciding where they wanted to live, be it here in the town or perhaps the nearest large city (Perpignan) or indeed elsewhere in France, as they could travel back to England for work from anywhere. Their home in Oxford was on the market and a couple of interested parties had looked at it (another reason they had been back in England during their holiday); the sale would leave them able to easily buy a place in either the local area,Canet-Plage, or another small city and also have a nice little increase to their nest egg. Of course moving to a major city would put a dent in it, which was all part of the discussion and consideration.

Hermione walked into her bedroom and changed from her pyjamas into her bikini, pulling a T-shirt and shorts on over it. She slipped on some sandals and threw some of her new books into her rucksack, along with a towel and some sunscreen. She mused that she'd _still_ not heard anything from anyone in Britain about her transfer away from Hogwarts, despite the senior staff and several senior members of the Ministry of Magic (including the Minister himself) reportedly trying desperately to find a way to bring Harry Potter back to Britain and Hogwarts. While she was glad of the anonymity she felt a little upset that it seemed that _nobody_ cared that she'd left, given that she thought she was quite friendly with several members of staff. The girl left the cottage, locking up and walking the short distance to the beach.

Despite the reasonably early hour the day was warming up nicely and the beach was already quite busy; the young witch dropped her stuff onto the sand, rolled out the towel and stripped down to her swimsuit before lying down on the towel and reminiscing on the summer so far. It had been nice and relaxing for her; she hadn't seen much of Harry or anybody else from the Wizarding world, just a single day trip to Paris. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, had apparated her there to meet the others in the Cleusaux Department Store that Harry had frequented on his date with his girlfriend, Fleur Delacour (the thought of them sneaking off to Paris from Hogsmeade still irked her a little) and she couldn't help but feel a little jealous of how easily Harry was conducting himself, chatting in almost perfect French to the people in the store, heading up to the top floor for the magical apparel and generally knowing his way around both that place and the magical quarter they accessed afterwards. For a girl who was used to being _needed_ by him, used to getting him out of various scrapes and holes, she felt a little sad that he either didn't need that role, or (even worse) that it had been usurped by his girlfriend. Harry had tried to include her in everything but she had been struggling to resist a grimace when she looked at Fleur or, particularly, the two of them together.

It didn't take long for Hermione to start to feel the sun's rays burning her skin; she sat up and began to apply the sunscreen to herself, wishing that she was able to use the charm instead. She looked around her and, seeing how many of the other ladies on the beach were attired, rather sheepishly untied her bikini top and dropped the garment back into her bag before adding some more, higher factor, sun lotion to the newly exposed flesh. She looked around again but nobody on the beach paid any heed to her change in attire.

The young witch pushed her sunglasses up her nose and picked up one of her new school books; lying on her back she tried to read it, only to decide that it was too heavy to support in that position. She put it back in the bag and took a slimmer tome, quietly reading through it.

Once she'd finished she retrieved the original text book and, rolling onto her front, she began the chapter she'd got up to the previous night, scratching her head as she came across a word she didn't recognise. She wasn't too surprised that she was unable to find it in her non-magical French to English dictionary and made a note to ask one of the Delacours the next time she saw them and continued reading.

* * *

After a busy morning of helping Harry get up to speed with his Potions work (and trying to make up for the four years of appalling teaching he'd received in the subject from Professor Snape), Fleur sent her boyfriend/student for a swim in their private pool (and to keep her little sister, Gabrielle, company) while she apparated to the cottage that the Grangers were renting; a quick knock on the door and a _Homonen Revelio_ spell later confirmed that nobody was inside. Knowing that Hermione enjoyed soaking up the sun, she made her way to the beach; the young Veela smiled as she saw the bushy-haired teen lying there reading. As the beach was quiet, she decided to have some fun with the younger witch; she looked around to make sure she wasn't being watched before pulling out her wand and casting a disillusionment charm on herself before apparating right next to her.

Hermione jumped at the _crack_ sound that she heard; she grabbed her bag to cover herself and leapt to her feet, hand plunging into the rucksack and tightening around her wand as she looked around cautiously.

"Relax," she heard Fleur's mirthful voice and turned in the general direction; the Veela checked again that nobody was looking in their direction and cancelled the charm. The smiling blonde, wearing a short summery dress, came into view and Hermione relaxed; she crouched down and pulled her bikini top from the bag, retying it before standing up.

"Sorry to scare you," Fleur apologised in French, though she was still smiling broadly, "I couldn't resist it when I saw you alone and so engrossed in what you were reading."

Hermione huffed. "No harm done I suppose," she grumbled. "Are we going to your house today or Harry's?"

"Ours," she replied, "unless you want to stay here a little longer."

"No, we'll go," Hermione answered, shaking the towel before rolling it up and stuffing it and the books into her bag. "Did Harry not want to come?" She was a little surprised that the blonde was alone.

"He wanted to come but he wasn't sure that you would want him to see you nude," Fleur replied matter-of-factly, causing Hermione to blush scarlet.

"He _knew_ that I'd…" she mumbled; Fleur was now smiling broadly.

"He knows that _most_ girls here do," she sniggered at the memory of their first trip to the beach, when they had apparated to the south coast of the country for the day; her boyfriend had gawped a little at the amount of flesh on display before Fleur had added to it and monopolised his attention from that point onwards, until he'd settled enough to start reading some of his summer books (and have the occasional cooling swim in the Mediterranean) "he also remembered when you were over a couple of weeks ago; your bikini clearly showed you have no tan line so he guessed." Hermione nodded uncomfortably at what her friend had deduced about her. "Come then, we will go."

Hermione gathered up her bag, put a tentative hand on Fleur's forearm and the older girl spirited them away.

 _Delacour Home,_

 _Lille_

The two girls appeared a blink of an eye later outside Fleur's home in Lille; Hermione removed her hand quickly once she had steadied herself.

"You still don't like me much, do you?" Fleur asked in conversational tone; there was no hint of accusation but Hermione still looked awkwardly at her.

"I…" she squeaked; Fleur continued to eye her casually but expectantly, non-verbally encouraging her to continue. "I just can't help but feel that you seduced Harry when things first happened between you, I didn't think it was right – I _still_ don't, really, at his age. Then we had our… conversation immediately after that weekend and I remember you seemed to be rather _superior_ about it all, which didn't endear you to me. After talking to Harry, and seeing you two getting closer, I'm _trying_ to be better about it but it's difficult for me."

"You like him?" The French girl's tone was still curious rather than accusatory.

"He's my best friend," she replied cautiously, "and I was worried that he would get hurt by you. Maybe I still am," she revealed.

"It is good that you are such a good friend to him," Fleur patted her on the arm and they made their way to the patio door. "Now, I will go and let 'Arry know you are here, give him time to get dressed," she finished with a wink.

"What, y… you mean he…" Hermione blushed again; Fleur just shrugged.

"Usually when we are out by the pool we don't bother with suits. It has been normal for me and Gabbi all our lives, though she makes 'Arry uncomfortable because she is still young and that is less normal in Britain, he says," Hermione nodded her confirmation. "But now the two of us have nothing to hide from one another so why not enjoy the weather?"

"I suppose so," Hermione mumbled, trying not to think of the couple nude together in a bed somewhere, or even by the pool; Fleur had already gone and the English witch could hear her and Harry talking. A few moments later she could see the two of them walking towards them, Harry was wearing a pair of shorts but bare-chested. She rushed over and hugged her friend before giving him a kiss on the cheek; it was testament, she thought, to his growing maturity that he wasn't at all fazed by her actions.

"Hi Hermione, it's good to see you again," he told her instead, tightening his arms a little around her.

"You too, the tan really suits you, you're looking well," she praised him as she extricated herself from his arms.

"Yes, living here has been great for me," he agreed with a smile. "Sirius loves it too; he's back in England today though, dealing with some stuff at the Ministry."

"They're trying to force you to go back?" she asked sympathetically.

"Yes, Dumbledore's apparently even become desperate enough to put a motion in the Wizengamot meaning that no British wizard or witch could be educated abroad without Ministry permission," he shook his head. "That's what I think is being debated today, after Sirius' induction to the Wizengamot. Sirius says there's only a tiny chance that it will pass, even with me as the poster child, though they couldn't apply it retrospectively _anyway_ as the approval for our transfers has already gone through and there are a few children of Wizengamot members studying abroad; they won't want them to be forced to come back so he's confident that some legislation like that wouldn't affect me anyway, although Sirius said his alternative would be a bill specifically targeting _me_ rather than kids in general and, with it being me, it's possible that _could_ pass – though Sirius will be questioning why _just_ me if that sort of bill _is_ proposed."

Hermione nodded, after all there were the two of them who had transferred so why not try to get _her_ to return as well? Harry continued, "Sirius also doubts that many members will want to lose the option to send their kids abroad, which is why he's saying there's only a small chance any sort of legislation passes – precedent and all. He _does_ think, though, that if this fails Dumbledore will simply try and kidnap me then, once I'm back in England he can hold me in Hogwarts _for my own protection_ ," he spat out; Fleur stepped next to him and wrapped an arm around him, kissing his cheek. He smiled gratefully at her and continued, "and if that happened then the Wizengamot would probably be 'persuaded' to stall Sirius for as long as they could."

Fleur nodded. "There is no love at all between the British Ministry and our own; they would not be afraid to insult Beauxbatons and make any number of claims to justify keeping you in 'Ogwarts. Nor would zey use zer Aurors to recover you nor allow ours to enter ze country and do so."

"How do you stop that from happening?" Hermione asked, knowing the Hogwarts Headmaster had an awful lot of power, both magical and political.

"You apparated outside the house," he reminded her, "there are anti-apparation charms set up, anti-Portkey charms, anti-Phoenix charms even, both around the property here and at mine and Sirius's new place. The floo is password protected too; we've set it up so that we can floo directly between here and our house so I don't need to go outside."

"Looks like you've thought of everything then," she complemented.

"It _does_ mean we need a certain level of subterfuge to go out for the day but we sweep for tracking charms and other things quite regularly and this place, along with our house, is unplottable so nobody in Britain should know _exactly_ where we are."

"I'd say it sounded paranoid if I didn't agree with the need for it," Hermione mused.

"'ARRY!" They heard a cry from by the pool; Fleur and Harry turned to one another with knowing grins. "Come and swim!"

"Gabrielle," he told Hermione; she nodded.

"She _loves_ him," Fleur teased her beau; Harry smiled at her.

"So do you," he responded cockily before giving her a kiss. He then led the two girls to the pool so Hermione could greet the youngest Delacour.

"Why didn't you check _me_ for tracking charms before we came here?" Hermione asked Fleur suddenly as they walked.

"Who says I didn't?" the French girl replied.

"When?"

"It only took a second so after I apparated and before I became visible," Fleur shrugged.

Sirius returned early in the evening; he looked weary as he stepped through the floo, thanking Mme Delacour as she prepared a plate of dinner for him.

"How was it?" Harry asked his godfather as he joined them at the table.

"Well, the proposal _was_ just about you and it was thrown out," he declared with a satisfied smile. "I'm sure Dumbledore's still trying to figure out ways to get you back though; he's also been asking me _why_ you left like that in the first place. I explained it was for Fleur," he nodded at the young Veela, "he started saying there were 'accommodations' that could be made and you should have spoken to him or McGonagall rather than doing things the way you did." Harry rolled his eyes and Sirius smirked. "I didn't think you'd believe him."

"If I _had_ spoken to either of them the legislation to keep me there would have passed before the year ended," he observed; nobody at the table disagreed with that.

"Oh and Madam Longbottom asked if I knew where you were." He waited a couple of seconds before delivering the punch line. "I said you were in France." The table erupted in laughter. "Yes, they weren't very pleased with that answer and even less so when I refused to elaborate."

"Has anyone mentioned Hermione?" Harry enquired after he stopped chuckling; Sirius looked at the witch who was his godson's best friend.

"Apart from me bringing up 'your classmate' in session and asking why the proposal didn't cover her, nobody at all I'm afraid." She just shrugged, not too surprised.

"Oh by the way," she said, "my parents wanted me to invite you all over this weekend to the little place we have."

"Sounds good," Fleur nodded, "and there will be enough wands to make sure nothing can happen, even _if_ someone somehow finds us."

"Do you think they might?" Harry asked nervously.

"It is the most vulnerable place that someone could target," his girlfriend's father commented thoughtfully. "They don't know where we leave so you can't be found here and there's no way for them to track you when you move around the place with us. As far as Hermione's house is concerned though… even though the Portkey they use was supplied by the French Ministry it is possible that the British Ministry are tracking it, _especially_ as they know of your friendship."

"If you don't want to or don't think it's safe then I understand," Hermione blurted out; it would hurt for them to say that they wouldn't come over but hurt a lot more if it was the cause of Harry being illegally apprehended by Dumbledore, Fudge and their cronies.

"No, we'll go," he told her. "I'm here to enjoy my life and I'll do that. We'll take precautions, maybe set up some protective spells at your home as well," the adult magic users all nodded, "it will be fine."

Hermione smiled gratefully at him.

"You're doing magic?" Hermione asked in surprise as Harry revealed that Fleur was helping him practice Potions, Charms and Transfiguration during the day.

"The French have a different approach," he explained, "under-age students practicing magic is _encouraged_ so that they can better control it; provided it's done in the confines of a magical home and away from prying eyes, the government has no problem."

"So I could…" she began; Harry cut her off.

" _If_ your parents owned their home. You, and they, would also be subject to spot-checks by the Ministry to make sure the house wasn't in breach of the Statute of Secrecy."

"So there's bias against muggle-borns here as well?" she asked with a sullen trace to her tone.

"No," Fleur jumped in, defending her country, " _all_ homes are subject to these checks, to make sure rooms haven't been expanded in a way a muggle would notice, for example."

"Think Mr. Weasley's car," Harry added; Hermione had never experienced the blue Ford Anglia but had heard the stories. "While that's not _illegal_ here it would need to be registered to be legal and then be monitored to ensure that any magic was reversed before it could be sold to a muggle – the same with houses. They _do_ check houses containing muggle-borns more regularly on average but that's because they're more likely to live in a muggle area and to have non-magic friends." He grinned. "How many non-magic friends do your parents have? How many do the Weasleys have? Whose house would get more non-magic visitors?"

"I suppose so," she conceded huffily.

"As our home is in a muggle area," Fleur spoke up, "we _should_ be checked regularly. But as Papa works for the Ministry he has to fill in a report every week saying that there is nothing in the house and grounds that would breach the Statute."

"It's a formality really," M Delacour added, "nobody ever actually _reads_ my report, let alone come here to check on us…" Then he gave a wry smile. "It doesn't happen unless the Ministry are trying to get rid of an employee; _that's_ a common tactic for a new Minister to get rid of his rivals – to perform an unannounced spot-check and pull them up on undeclared changes that they've made, though most high-powered people live in magical manors, like in England, so they are not subject to these checks as the homes have been in the family for generations and would never be sold, especially not to a muggle."

"So once my parents buy a house I can do magic there?" Hermione sought confirmation, her excitement building again.

"Yes," Fleur confirmed, "provided that it is registered with the Ministry, checked frequently and that any magical alterations are corrected before it goes up for sale again."

When Hermione looked confused, Harry elaborated. "You could cast muggle-repelling charms on your bedroom door," he grinned, "maybe even make it so your parents could never enter your room." Hermione chuckled at the idea of having an absolute _sanctuary_ in her own home. "Then you would be able to make it as magical as you like: expansion charms to make your room way bigger, big enough to put a Potions lab in it, even a Quidditch pitch in the back garden if you made it big enough." The look of horror on her face caused the couple to laugh. "The repelling charms would mean it passed a Ministry inspection but they would insist on them being removed and the house and garden restored to its normal size before the house was put on the market, _especially_ as they would be likely to sell it via a muggle Estate Agent."

"That actually makes a lot of sense," Hermione conceded.

Later on in the evening, Hermione used the Delacour's phone (they had one installed as M Delacour's work often involved dealing with the non-magic world; it was also convenient for talking to Sirius and Harry by a method that no British Pureblood would ever consider a magical would use and therefore they would not be able to eavesdrop on) to call her parents and make sure they were back home.

"I'll take her," Sirius offered once they learned the Grangers had indeed returned from work; he turned to his godson. "Will you be home tonight or staying here."

Harry glanced at Fleur and her parents (Gabbi was staring at him with puppy dog eyes as well). "I'll stay here if that's ok?"

"Of course you will," Sirius mock-grumbled (before tipping his godson a massive wink). "I don't know why I bothered buying a house, I should have just bought a patch of land and built a kennel."

"The garden's big enough; I'm sure we can build one?" Harry offered with a grin; Sirius smirked at him before leading Hermione outside and taking her home.

 _1300 Rue Michel Carola,_

 _Canet-en-Roussillon, France_

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione called as she rushed into the cottage; Sirius followed her in, wand subtly drawn, just in case.

"In here sweetie," her dad called; the new arrivals headed into the kitchen where the Granger parents were sat down to dinner.

"Oh hello Sirius, would you like to join us?" Mrs Granger was getting to her feet when Sirius put his hand out to stop her.

"No, thank you, we've already eaten," he informed the matriarch. "I just wanted to make sure Hermione got here safely and to let you know that, if the offer still stands, we'd all love to come over some time."

"Excellent," Mr Granger smiled, "we'll go shopping on Saturday morning and hold a barbecue Sunday afternoon?"

"I'll make sure everyone is there," Sirius promised. He hugged Hermione before disapparating back to Lille.

"How was work? How did you find travelling from here to England and back?" Hermione asked her parents eagerly as she sat at the table.

"It was nice to be back," her mother admitted. "Usually after a holiday we feel it's time to return to 'real life', though I have to admit that with us still being here it feels like we have the best of both worlds."

"I can understand that," her daughter nodded, "I spend my life with a foot in two worlds after all; it's only here, both when we were in Paris recently and again today at the Delacours, that I've actually experienced a harmonious blend of both the magical and non-magical. It's crazy how much the British magical world, either deliberately or through ignorance, misses out on and it's no wonder so many first-generations like me end up leaving magical Britain after Hogwarts."

"Or _during_ it," her father smiled at her; she blushed a little but nodded her concession of the point.

"How is the house-hunting going?" she asked her parents.

"We picked up a couple of brochures from outside the hypermarché earlier," her mother replied, delving into her bag and placing them on the table for the three to pore over, "so we can start looking. Have we decided that we want to stay in this area?" She looked from her husband to her daughter.

"It doesn't _really_ matter to me," Hermione answered, "having the beach close by is nice for when I'm home for a weekend, but obviously I can travel by Portkey to school from anywhere and someone can take me to either Fleur or Harry's homes instantly, so it's really up to you two."

"I like being by the sea," Mr Granger enthused.

"Me too," his wife agreed, "having the beach on the doorstep is a wonderful thing on a weekend. It's getting a bit late now so I don't think we'd benefit from it too much after work on an evening but spending any weekend we wanted on the beach?" She smiled at her family. "That sounds like a good thing to me."

"I'm sure I'll be home quite a lot to enjoy it as well," Hermione confirmed, "especially in the summer months."

"Well then," she opened the first brochure, "which ones do we like the look of?"

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading the opening chapter of this second story. I don't really have an overall plot firmly in mind at the moment so updates may be a little sporadic but I will work on it. PD**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome to the second chapter of this story. A huge thank you to everyone who read and, especially, reviewed the first chapter; I'm glad it was so well received.  
**

* * *

Chapter 2

 _Ministry of Magic,_

 _London, United Kingdom_

 _Wednesday, 26_ _th_ _July 1995_

"Ah Sirius, my dear chap, how are you?"

Sirius sighed as he heard the voice. "Albus," he returned coolly. "What can I do for you?" He had a fair idea that he could guess what the answer would be.

"I really wanted to talk to you about your godson." Sirius rolled his eyes as his guess proved on the money. "You see I really don't feel that it's in the boy's best interests to be moving school at this time."

"You made that _quite clear_ , Headmaster, when you tried to legislate his forced repatriation," the other growled.

"Ah, when I see others making a mistake, I try to stop them, using whatever means are at my disposal," Dumbledore replied with a smile.

"Really?" Sirius asked disbelievingly. "So what _means_ did you use two and a half years ago, _Headmaster_ , when most of the student body were bullying Harry over the mistaken belief that he was setting monsters on the other kids at his school? Or last year when they – equally mistakenly – thought he illegally entered the Triwizard Tournament and again they bullied him as a result?" When Dumbledore failed to immediately respond, Sirius continued, "The answer is _no_ , Dumbledore, Harry will _not_ be returning to this country or your school. Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have business to attend to before _I_ go back to France to see him."

Sirius turned and left; Albus glanced around the corridor. Nobody was watching so he pulled out his wand and, pointing it at Sirius' back, whispered an incantation. He then quickly stowed the wand back in his robes and, voicing his disapproval at the retreating Black, flooed back to Hogwarts.

 _Gringotts Bank,_

 _Diagon Alley_

"And lastly I'd like to visit my vault, please," Sirius concluded the business he'd dealt with; the goblin teller widened his eyes in surprise.

"Mr Black, with the business you've done with us today you must know you don't _have_ to visit your vault. For anything other than a _major_ withdrawal you could easily have it done here and the appropriate monies will be transferred by us overnight."

"Much as I appreciate that, teller Bogrod, I do wish to visit the vault myself," he replied smoothly.

"Very well," Bogrod conceded with a sigh, "follow me please." The goblin led him to the mining carts that took customers deep into the bowels of the bank.

"Vault 711," he declared on arrival.

Sirius handed Bogrod his key and his guide opened the vault. Sirius stepped inside, pulling a distasteful face at some of the artefacts his family had deposited there over the centuries; he made a mental note to come along some day and dispose of any dark objects there. Bending down he picked up one gold galleon and one bronze knut. He pocketed the knut before exiting the vault and handing the galleon to a questioning Bogrod.

"For your trouble," he told him; the goblin looked astounded. "You see, I had dealings with Albus Dumbledore this morning and… well I rather suspected he might try some underhand way of following me to my new home in his attempts to kidnap my young godson," Bogrod's face morphed into a snarl at this disclosure. "So my _real_ purpose for visiting was to go through the _Thief's Downfall_ ," he gestured to the waterfall, visible a few yards back up the track.

"A wise precaution given your suspicions," Bogrod agreed.

"Now, on our return, could I trouble you for use of a floo so that I need not return through the front of the bank?"

The goblin smiled and motioned to the cart.

 _Headmaster's Office,_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

 _Alnwick_

Dumbledore was bursting with impatient excitement as he sat behind his desk. The tracking charm he'd placed on Black back in the Ministry showed the man to be in Gringotts. From there he would surely be returning to France where he would meet up with Harry, leading Albus straight to the boy. And then, and then…

Nothing. The tracker died in his hands. Dumbledore shook it in frustration but it stubbornly refused to work; Sirius had vanished and he had no idea where he'd gone.

Albus wanted to weep. Instead he called for Fawkes and made his way quickly to the bank. After all, Harry Potter _must_ be found, and soon.

 _Gringotts Bank,_

 _Diagon Alley, London_

Bogrod returned to his counter, opening it up again as the luridly-robed wizard pushed his way to the front, much to the annoyance of the bank's other clients. The goblin snarled at this show of rudeness and lack of basic etiquette; it was never going to endear Dumbledore to his hosts.

"Welcome to Gringotts," he began; Dumbledore attempted to interrupt, knowing that this formality was the prelude to a five minute introduction to the bank, something the goblins enjoyed rolling out for "difficult" customers. The wizard was unsuccessful in heading Bogrod off and had to stand there impotently as the interminable spiel continued.

"Thank you for that detailed overview," he forced himself to say once the goblin shut up, "I was hoping you can help me."

This proved a mistake as it allowed Bogrod to spend another five minutes listing the various accounts and services that Gringotts made available to its clientele, along with another five listing the specials and promotions currently available, many of which he'd made up on the spot, knowing full well that they were of no interest to his addressee.

"That won't be necessary," an infuriated Dumbledore managed at last, "I was merely hoping to see Sirius Black. I understand he visited you earlier and, as I haven't seen him leave, I hoped to catch him before he did so if you could point me in his direction I will speak to him when he concludes his current dealings."

"I'm afraid, Mr er…" the goblin looked at him.

"Dumbledore," the old wizard sighed in resigned frustration, "Albus Dumbledore."

"Well Mr Dumbledore Albus Dumbledore," Bogrod continued, face not revealing the masses of fun he was having dealing with the pompous mage, "as I was saying I'm afraid Mr Black will not be able to meet you here."

"Oh come now," Dumbledore turned conciliatory, "I can appreciate that he has business in the bank and would be happy to wait outside the room for him to finish, but it is _imperative_ that I speak to him before he leaves."

"He's already left," his teller revealed, seeing the line of impatient wizards building behind Dumbledore. "He flooed directly away from here."

Dumbledore looked crestfallen; he tried his last hope. "Do you know where he flooed to?"

" _No_ ," the goblin was annoyed now and not afraid to show it, "and even if I did I wouldn't be able to tell you. Client confidentiality you know. Now, if there's nothing else Mr Dumbledore Albus Dumbledore, I have a lot of people to deal with," he nodded over Albus's shoulder; Dumbledore turned and saw the long, angry queue. He frowned but, knowing the intransigent nature of the goblin, backed down and wished him good day.

He walked away from the desk, shaking his head sadly; why was everybody ignoring what was best for the wizarding world? Why wasn't he being unquestioningly obeyed? And if it wasn't bad enough that he couldn't get close to Potter, the boy's friend Granger had _also_ left Hogwarts, much to Minerva's consternation when she'd barged into his office this morning. Now that she mentioned it he recalled Sirius had said as much in the chamber recently and Minerva had berated him for not telling her sooner but really, was he supposed to remember _every_ little, inconsequential thing? Ah well, she was but a minor concern in the grand scheme of things; he'd maybe worry about the muggleborn witch once Harry was back under his control where he belonged. But for that he'd need to have a chat with the French… He pulled out his pocket watch and studied it; it was too late now, what with their habits of finishing the day early and the hour they will insist on adding on to what was _proper_ time; he'd have to make the trip in the morning.

 _The Burrow,_

 _Ottery St. Catchpole_

A party was in full swing when Arthur Weasley returned home from work; he didn't feel like celebrating after the day he'd had but his wife thrust a glass into his hand, ordering him to toast their youngest son, who had just been named Gryffindor's fifth year male prefect.

"Yes, Albus mentioned it this morning," he sighed wearily. "Congratulations, Ronald."

"You didn't think to say anything?" Molly screeched.

"Albus said the owl would already have arrived; you knew before I did," he defended.

"Who's the other prefect?" Ginny Weasley asked her dad; he sighed again.

"Albus said it _would_ have been Hermione but apparently, just like Harry, she's left Hogwarts for France."

The other Weasleys, aside from Ron, were stunned by this news; Harry's departure had become the talk of the Ministry, permitting Ron to confirm it despite the vow he'd taken in the spring. Despite Hermione's papers being filed he hadn't felt confident enough to share that, just in case it needed to become public knowledge first.

"You don't seem surprised, Ron," his little sister observed.

"I knew she was going too," he shrugged. "She had it all worked out, the poor quality of teaching at Hogwarts in several subjects, Harry moving. They wanted me to go too but we knew you'd never allow it without knowing the full story."

"And _why_ couldn't you tell us the full story?" his mother challenged angrily.

"Because Harry needed it kept secret that he was leaving, otherwise he thinks Dumbledore would have stopped him." He looked at his father. "From what you've said, he was right about that."

"So _that's_ why Professor McGonagall came over earlier wanting to talk to you?" Molly asked, eyes narrowing at the discovery that her son had lied to her over the purpose of the Transfiguration teacher's visit.

"Yes," he confirmed, "I needed a cover story until everything became public knowledge, just in case that vow I took kicked in."

Arthur nodded before trying to head off his wife's inevitable angry explosion. "Well anyway, best not to dwell on that today, let's enjoy Ron's big moment."

At that moment a regal-looking owl flew through the open kitchen window and landed on the youngest male Weasley's shoulder; he removed the attached missive curiously, his face lighting up as he read it.

"It's from Fleur," he told his assembled family, "we are cordially invited to Harry's birthday party next week." He looked steadily at his father. "Due to the _sensitive_ nature of things, we've been sworn to secrecy about it." Arthur nodded.

Despite the attached condition, spirits at the Burrow were instantly lifted by the prospect of celebrating Harry's birthday with him and the party swung back to life, spearheaded, of course, by the twins.

 _French Ministry of Magic,_

 _Paris, France_

 _Thursday, 27_ _th_ _July 1995_

" _Nom?_ " the witch behind the counter asked dismissively as Albus Dumbledore strode confidently up to her station.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he declared in grandiose tones. "Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot. I'm here to speak to your Minister."

"Do you have an appointment?" she sounded bored with him already.

"Ah my dear, I am Supreme Mugwump of the ICW in addition to my position in British society; I just need to speak to the Minister at the earliest opportunity."

She gave a brief, scathing glance to the arrogant wizard before sighing. "Please 'ave a seat Monsieur Dumblydoor and I will tell 'eem you are 'ere."

"That won't be necessary," Dumbledore countered, "just point me to his office, I'm sure he'll be pleased to see me for a few moments."

By now the conversation had garnered the attention of everybody, staff and visitor alike, in the atrium; nobody was impressed by the Headmaster's presumptiveness.

"I must insist you take a seat while we inform 'eem of your presence." She gestured to the waiting area; Dumbledore huffed but reluctantly sat, watched her leave and felt confident that an apologising Minister would bumble his way over soon - and that his embarrassment would be something Albus could use to get his way over access to Harry Potter.

 _Delacour Home,_

 _Lille  
_

"What's so funny, papa?" Gabrielle asked as her father arrived home from work, barely able to contain his laughter.

"'Arry's former Headmaster," M Delacour chuckled; the boy in question looked up from the charms book that he and Fleur were poring over at mention of his name.

"What has he done now?" Harry groaned in resignation.

"He arrived at the Ministry this morning, looking to speak to our Minister; we guessed that it would be an appeal for your return."

"Of course," Harry grumbled, "why else would he visit France?" Fleur took his hand gently; it had the effect of instantly soothing his mood. Sirius, meanwhile, looked more than a little annoyed at the lengths the old goat was going to in his efforts to control his godson.

"Well," his host continued, "we delivered his message, that he wanted to see the Minister."

"And…" Sirius prompted.

"Well you can guess how well received an arrogant English school teacher making demands of the French government and Minister was. You can imagine how we responded."

Harry smirked. "So you gave him a number ticket charmed to increase any time he got near the front of the queue, along with a mild _confundus_ charm so he didn't realise it was happening?"

"No, we just ignored him – but your way sounds a lot of fun; we must try it next time," Fleur's father laughed. "He was sat there all day while the staff were 'busy' so he had nobody to complain to. He was walking around the atrium but unable to get any further. I believe he even tried his phoenix but the Minister's Office is impervious to it – and any other unauthorised entrance."

"What time did he leave?" Harry asked.

"At that point, 'Arry," Gabrielle answered for her father. "Anyone trying to gain unauthorised access to senior Ministry staff, especially the Minister himself, would be expelled from the building and from our country. Is that not right, papa?" She looked at him; he smilled.

"That is correct my little one. I am sure he will try again but for a long time now he will not be welcome in France and will be removed from our soil should he return."

"That's a relief," Harry declared; sentiments shared throughout the Delacour home.

 _1300 Rue Michel Carola,_

 _Canet-en-Roussillon  
_

 _Monday, 31_ _st_ _July 1995_

Fleur, her parents and Sirius had all travelled to the Burrow to take the Weasley family, via side-along apparation to France. As part of their elaborate security plans they first went to the Grangers' holiday home on the south coast, which they had placed some charm-neutralising spells around, just in case Dumbledore had suspected they would visit for his birthday and placed a tracker on the Weasleys on the off chance of them leading him to Harry. From there they planned to travel to the Delacour home and Harry's birthday celebrations could begin, but first they had the problem of Mr Weasley meeting muggle technology.

"Eckeltricity!" he cried excitedly. "All these lights, the television," he walked into the kitchen, baffled by what the refrigerator could be and bemused by the electric cooker, " _all_ of it," he sounded awed; Hermione's parents looked questioningly at their daughter as she tried in vain to stifle her giggles.

"Er Mr Weasley, it's _electricity_ ," she explained kindly.

"What's the difference?" Ron asked testily, irked that the know-it-all in Hermione had surfaced so quickly and that she was correcting his dad.

"Ze difference could be exposing ze world of magique to non-magicals or not," Mme Delacour responded, causing all the Weasleys to turn to look at her. "Eef you cannot use ze correct term zen you weel stand out in zeir world. As Arthur ees one of your Ministry's experts on muggles zen 'ee needs to know what to say."

"Well my job doesn't actually involve dealing with muggles," Arthur explained contritely, "just with people misusing their artefacts."

"Anyway, we should be making a move," Molly interjected; M Delacour concurred and the group apparated to Lille.

 _Delacour Home,_

 _Lille_

"Ron! It's good to see you!" Harry hugged his oldest friend as he entered the house; Ginny gawped around in amazement as she compared the venue with her own home. She didn't get long to dwell on it as Gabrielle, delighted at the prospect of some female company close to her own age, seized her and began dragging her around the place and talking nineteen-to-the-dozen at her.

"I think eet's wonderful zat 'Arry ees leeving 'ere and weel be at school in France," the little Veela enthused; she saw Ginny's face fall and gave her a questioning look.

"I'm going to miss him," the redhead admitted. "It was nice going to the same school as him and…" she blushed, not really wanting to admit her crush, "well you know how it is being raised on stories of the boy-who-lived so to actually be at school with him and then have him save my life…"

"'E saved mine as well," the blonde nodded, "when I was trapped een zat lake."

Ron, meanwhile, was catching up with the other two members of the infamous Gryffindor trio.

"… and going through the books from previous years, I mean honestly there's so much there that Hogwarts wouldn't even _think_ about teaching us at that age but at the same time trying to study in another language is…"

"Hermione, Hermione," Ron raised his hand, "don't forget to breathe. And," he shot a smirk at a smiling Harry, "this is a _party_ , we don't have to discuss schoolwork _all summer_."

The bushy-haired brunette looked a little affronted at this; Harry came to her rescue.

"I've been studying most of the summer too, Ron, trying to catch up to where I need to be. Without Fleur's help I don't know _what_ I'd have done."

 _Without_ _ **Fleur**_ _you wouldn't be leaving us_ , Ginny thought stiffly as she overheard this as Gabrielle paused for breath before starting to gabble again.

"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" Ron mock-demanded, causing Harry to laugh.

"So do _you_ have any news?" Hermione asked, still upset with their redheaded friend.

"Yes, actually," he admitted, looking positively embarrassed at what he was about to pass on, "I've been made prefect."

"Really? Wow, that's great," Harry congratulated him; he smiled awkwardly.

"Yeah, and mum's going to get me a new broom. I was thinking I'd try out for the House Quidditch team this year, you know, now that Wood's not there there's a spot open for a keeper."

"Go for it," Harry urged, hoping Ron would have something to do to distract him from their absence at Hogwarts.

"Who's the other prefect?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "It _was_ going to be _you_ ," she blushed a little at this, "but obviously not now. And McGonagall was _furious_ when she found out you'd gone as well. Came to see me the day the letter arrived, something about your owl returning to her as soon as she sent it, which led to her discovering you were no longer a student."

"You mean she hadn't looked at the stuff Maxime gave her in all this time – apart from _my_ transfer letter?" Harry shook his head while Hermione looked hurt that her departure had gone unnoticed for so long. He then turned to the Weasley patriarch, who was stood nearby. "Is there any news from the Ministry after Dumbledore's little visit to France last week?"

"Yes, actually," Arthur gave a rueful smile. "Dumbledore's trying to put a motion through the Wizengamot officially censuring France for his expulsion." When the British kids looked confused he continued, "It's meaningless political posturing, just sending a message of disapproval for what France did."

"Why would they expect to permit unauthorised access to their Minister?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Because he's Dumbledore," Sirius supplied, "he believes he should be able to come and go where he likes and that people should just trust him not to have ulterior or underhand motives for his actions." When Harry, Fleur and Hermione scoffed simultaneously he chuckled. "I quite agree but I'm sure, with it being meaningless outside of Britain, the motion will garner considerable support. People will want to at least publically appear to be supporting Dumbledore and," he looked apologetically at Fleur, "upsetting the French will be seen as a bonus."

The Veela shrugged. Ron, however, was bewildered.

"Why would they want to upset another country?"

"Well a millennium of war between them might have something to do with it," Hermione sniggered; Ron turned to her questioningly.

"Hermione's right, Ron," Harry agreed. "You might not know, since you didn't go to school before Hogwarts, but our history classes at Primary School were full of stories of conflicts between our two countries in the muggle world. I suppose it's only natural that such ill-feeling spilled over into the magical world as well."

Fleur nodded. "Magical 'istory between our nations ees equally unpleasant. 'Opefully that weel change eef ze Triwizard continues in the future."

"Harry Potter leaving for France is unlikely to help British views though," Sirius teased his godson.

"But eet weel 'elp France," Fleur grinned.

"Dinner ees served," Madame Delacour drew a temporary halt to discussions as the kids raced to beat Ron to the table in the hope of getting some food before he got stuck in.

* * *

"Fred, George," Harry smiled as he sat next to the twins after dinner, opening another butterbeer as he did.

"Hi Harry," they declared in unison.

"I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you. How goes the joke shop?" he asked quietly.

"Joke shop?" Fleur murmered, slipping into her lover's lap, to the twins' amusement; Ginny reddened at the sight from across the room, causing Gabrielle to frown at her.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Fred stated proudly.

"These two will put Zonko's out of business in no time," Harry observed.

"Ze shop in 'Ogsmeade?" she asked, recalling its name.

"Yep, their products are just amazing."

"But after we lost our savings…" George began morosely before stopping as the others looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"We bet everything on the World Cup Final, remember."

"Yes, your bet won," Harry recalled.

"But Bagman paid us with Leprechaun gold."

"'E did not!" Fleur gasped; Harry recalled Hagrid telling him that the gold would disappear after a few hours.

"So that's who you were trying to contact all year?" Harry asked; they nodded in unison. Harry thought for a few seconds before he brightened. "Well maybe _I_ can help," he glanced at the Weasley parents; neither were watching the exchange. "I have 300 Galleons prize money from the Triwizard tournament doing nothing. Would that help you get started?"

"It _would_ ," George enthused; Fred was more circumspect.

"We can't take your money, Harry."

"Call it an investment. Like I say, you two are amazing and I expect you to make a fortune. Why shouldn't I invest at the start and get a share in the business?" he grinned; the others smiled and hands were quickly shaken.

"I don't 'ave as much, since I am looking for work but I can add one 'undred," Fleur offered.

" _Four hundred galleons_ ," Fred whispered, awestruck. "That will help us to arrange premises for after we finish Hogwarts this year and have plenty of stock to go in there from day 1."

"Especially if we have a few 'free samples' going around school and we're making a few sales throughout the year," his brother rubbed his hands together gleefully.

"We could _even_ send a few samples to Beauxbatons," the first twin added thoughtfully. "I'm sure someone would make use of them."

"I'm not sure I should be trying to get into trouble before I even start," Harry laughed, "but that sounds good."

"You won't regret this, Harry," they said together as hands were shaken on the deal. "Nor will you, Fleur."

* * *

"'E will never leave her," Gabrielle cautioned as she cornered Ginny by the drinks table, "you must know zat."

"What?" the redhead elected to play dumb.

"'Arry. 'E loves my sistair and she loves 'eem. Zey weel be togezzer always."

"I'm beginning to realise that," the youngest Weasley noted in defeat. "It's just hard to watch dreams die."

"I know. I lost 'eem to my own sistair," Gabbi grumbled lightly. "Steel," she brightened, "eef _I_ cannot 'ave 'eem zen Fleur doing so ees ze next best sing. 'E makes an awesome big brother."

"I already have enough of those," Ginny huffed, "I didn't need him to be another one."

"Well zat ees all 'e could ever be, so ask yourself eef eet ees better zen nothing." The little blonde picked up a cup of fruit juice and, turning on her heel, walked away, leaving Ginny alone with her thoughts.

* * *

"So do you have any plans for the rest of the summer?" Ron asked his friends.

"More study, mostly," Harry admitted, "I'm still trying to make sure I'm not behind in all my classes when I start in September. Being able to practice magic all summer is definitely helping."

"I think that's part of the reason the students here are ahead of Hogwarts'," Hermione interjected, glancing at Fleur for confirmation or denial, "that and some of the poor teaching we've had."

"Zere weel be a test for you both before school starts," Fleur cautioned them. "Expect word of eet soon, along wiz your book lists. 'Arry can probably use my old books if 'e wants."

"Tests before we _start_?" Hermione was mildly horrified, given that she had no idea what she needed to revise; Ron was just thankful that he _didn't_ have any of these tests to contend with.

"Zey need to know weech classes to put you into." She then turned to Ron, who would certainly have no idea about how things were done at Beauxbatons. "Zere are no 'ouses like you 'ave at 'Ogwarts so classes are taught by ability. 'Ow zey do een zese tests will determine what class zey are een."

"Good luck," the relieved redhead told his friends.

"Alright!" Molly Weasley suddenly called as she emerged from the kitchen; everyone turned to look at the visiting matriarch, and what was in her hands. "It's time for cake. Make a wish, Harry dear."

The birthday boy smiled and walked over to her, admiring the creation; it was shaped like the Triwiard Cup but iced in the tricolour of the French flag, something that gratified her hosts.

"It's fantastic, Mrs Weasley, thank you," he told her humbly.

"Come on, come on, close your eyes, make a wish and blow out the candles," she urged him.

Harry did what he was told, though he found himself wondering what to wish for, seeing how life was almost perfect at the moment as far as he was concerned; the only thing he could think of was getting Dumbledore off his back and having a normal, quiet year at his new school… and for things with Fleur to carry on going as well as they were at the moment. He focussed on these thoughts as he extinguished the candles to copious applause from the gathered guests. Privately, Harry felt the cake looked too good to cut up but it was soon distributed among the gathering; the consensus was that it tasted every bit as good as it looked.

 _Black-Potter home_

Once the party was over M Delacour was able to furnish the Weasleys with a Portkey to return them to their home. Fleur decided to go with Harry to stay the night at the house Sirius had purchased, a couple of streets away from the Delacour home.

"About time you spent a night here," Sirius mock-grumbled, "since you _live_ here officially."

Fleur just chuckled as Harry pulled a face at the old Marauder, who returned it with interest.

"I _would_ wish you pleasant dreams but I'm sure they _will_ be," Sirius told him with a wink, before wishing the couple goodnight and heading to his room. Fleur stood facing her boyfriend, a predatory smile on her face.

"It is time for your last present, 'Arry," she told him seductively before leading the grinning fifteen-year old by the hand to his bedroom and pushing the door shut behind them with her foot. Sirius heard the click of the door and smiled to himself, though he did reflect on the need to work on his own love life now that he was officially a free man again.

Harry closed his eyes as Fleur's allure began to leak out; it wasn't intentional but her connection to Harry was meaning that it always began to manifest itself when she started glowing. Harry usually threw it off but just occasionally he allowed himself to succumb to it to enhance his experience. He decided tonight to embrace her allure completely; he felt like there wasn't a care in the world as his girlfriend slid his shorts down his legs, taking his boxers with them, his abdomen glowing a brilliant blue. He automatically lifted his arms as she moved her hands to the hem of his T-shirt; he felt it being removed and then she pushed him gently back onto his bed. The boy's slack-jawed expression intensified as the Veela also disrobed before joining him on the bed. She kissed him passionately, tongue slipping inside his mouth as they fell onto their sides.

Harry rolled his lover onto her back. "I'm going to miss nights like this," he breathed.

"I will also," she agreed. "We have to make the most of it before school, and whenever you come home."

"I'm sure most weekends will be free," he smiled.

"Enough talk," she pulled his head down to cover his lips with her own; he pushed upwards with his hips and positioned himself over her before guiding his way inside her. Their glows at their abdomens fused, sending sparks of pleasure through both of their bodies; only their joined lips kept them from crying out in mutual pleasure.

When both were sated they lay cuddling on the bed. "What will you do once school starts?" he asks.

"Wait for you to come back and help you with your homework," she teased, causing him to laugh.

"Seriously, though, have you thought on what you want to do?"

"Well I thought of maybe working as some sort of curse-breaker originally but…" she shrugged, "perhaps it is a bit too dangerous."

"Ron's oldest brother, you remember Bill?" She nodded; she'd thought the eldest of the Weasley children to be quite handsome, though of course as she was in a relationship with Harry she'd never even really spoken to him. "He works as a curse-breaker for Gringotts so if it _is_ something you're interested in then you could maybe talk to him about it," he suggested.

"It is something to think about," she nodded. Seeing Harry's eyelids dropping she added, "Now to sleep. We have another full day of study and swimming tomorrow."

The couple snuggled down and fell asleep in one another's arms.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. PD  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome to this latest chapter of the story; I hope you all enjoy it and a huge thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 3

 _Fleur's bedroom,_

 _Delacour Home,_

 _Lille, France_

 _Wednesday, 2_ _nd_ _August 1995_

"Ok, 'Arry, try this one again," the blonde urged, focussing on the latest charm that they were practicing. "The movement is like this," she took his wrist and helped him to trace the appropriate gesture, though she couldn't fail to notice how he responded to her touch (she did have a Veela's hypersensitivity to such things, after all). "Focus, my dear," she demanded, "if you want to be in a good class for next year."

"Ok," he huffed.

"If you get it right then I'm sure you can be rewarded later," she purred into his ear. Suitably motivated, Harry closed his eyes, trying to visualise the movements. Fleur let go of him and he traced the action with his wand arm.

"Very good," she praised. "Now, with the spell."

* * *

"Your potions are fine, Your transfiguration skills are ok but we will work on them again later," she leafed through the study list they'd drawn up after he left Hogwarts and been working through steadily all summer. "History… how are the books?"

"I've read all of them, along with the notes you gave me. I think it will just be a struggle because I haven't grown up with much French history," he commented. "I'll do my best but I don't expect too much."

Fleur nodded her understanding. "Now, the other subjects." Harry sighed. Trying to pick up two new subjects (three if you included French History) as well as getting up to speed in a couple of others was proving a major challenge. He was lucky that he had such a willing and able tutor – especially one who was able to keep him suitably focussed and motivated.

 _La Librairie Magique,_

 _Magical Quarter,_

 _Paris,_

 _Thursday, 17th August 1995_

"Aren't you buying anything?" Hermione asked, peering over her armloads of books at an empty-handed Harry. He reached out and took half of the brunette's load, the smile never leaving his face.

"I don't have to," he explained. "Fleur has given me all of hers for this year; the list hasn't changed in the years since she was a fifth year," he winked at his girlfriend who pretended to pout at the crack about her being older than him.

"Oh, ok," Hermione supposed it made sense.

"Especially potions; Fleur made quite a few notes about the potions, little modifications and things like that. I tried her way as well as the prescribed method and hers worked better."

"Ok, I'm working with you in that class this year," Hermione joked; they had both assumed that they would be sticking together in most of their classes, assuming they _were_ in the same ones.

"Anywhere else we need to go?" she asked after paying for her books.

"Well we need our robes, obviously," Harry observed; she nodded. " I want to get some owl treats for Hedwig and then maybe we can hit Cleusaux for a little while, get our robes, some other things and have some lunch before heading back?"

"You should come to our house for the afternoon," Hermione offered. "It will make a nice change and we can go to the beach instead of your pool."

"Ah, Gabrielle will be most disappointed to miss out," Fleur lamented on her sister's behalf.

"Well, once you're there you could maybe apparate back, pick her up and come back?" Harry suggested.

"I will do that, thank you Hermione," the Veela nodded.

 _Sirius's house,_

 _Lille_

 _Thursday, 24_ _th_ _August 1995_

"Hi Sirius, back from London then?" Harry asked, looking up as his godfather exited the floo.

"Your powers of observation are truly amazing, Harry," he bit acidly. "Sorry," he moderated his tone, "it's been a long day. How was the studying?"

"Long, hard but worth it – I hope, anyway. Anything interesting happening back in Britain?" Harry snuggled back into Fleur as Sirius sat down.

"Dumbledore came to see me after the meeting; he wants to speak to you before you start school," he told his godson.

"He's _still_ not giving up?"

"No," the Marauder shook his head. "He says he has important information for you which will change your decision on where to go to school."

Harry looked at him in bewilderment. "What did you say to that?"

"After I laughed in his face?" The old Marauder grinned. "I said that I would ask you because it's your decision but you're unlikely to agree."

 _Delacour Home,_

"Can we arrange something in the French Ministry?" Harry asked Fleur's father when they called over later in the evening to discuss the situation. "Perhaps he could appear in the fireplace, like you did that time at school," he nodded at his godfather. "I remember Cedric's father doing the same at The Burrow one morning;, while we'd all be sat in a room there so he isn't _actually_ in the same room, or even the same country, but we can hear him out."

"You _want_ to meet him?" Gabrielle was surprised; she was pleased to be present at the discussions despite having to suppress a few yawns; it was nearing her bedtime after all.

"Not really," Harry admitted, "but I want him to leave me alone; this might be the only way of doing so."

"I will arrange it; your idea is a good one," M Delacour commended.

"I'll make sure Dumbledore knows," Sirius added.

 _French Ministry of Magic,_

 _Paris_

 _Monday, 28_ _th_ _August 1995_

"He'll be there. He isn't happy, he really wants to meet you in person, but I told him this was the best he'd get." Sirius, M Delacour, Fleur, Hermione and Harry walked into the room and sat on the settees that the adults conjured for them. All eyes fell on the fireplace as the appointed time approached. Sirius waved his wand lazily, smiling as he detected the shield. "Just making sure," he told the Frenchman, who shrugged.

"We were promised it would be there but a wise precaution to make sure."

Fleur then got up and muttered a few more incantations. "Protections and repelling spells," she explained to her beau and the others, "you can never have too many." Again, everyone agreed with the reasoning.

Moments later the fire crackled to life and the head of Albus Dumbledore appeared in it.

"Harry, my boy, it's good to see you," he greeted him, "though it would be better if I was in a more comfortable position – and the same room as you." He eyed the others waspishly. "I didn't realise we'd have company."

"Well, we do," he shrugged. "Now, Sirius told me you have information for me."

"Ah, I do but alas, unfortunately it is only for _you_."

Harry looked at him. "That doesn't make much sense, former Headmaster." Dumbledore winced at the description, and the tone it was delivered in. "Particularly as I'll tell Fleur, her dad, Sirius, Hermione and the other Delacours everything anyway; it makes no sense to keep it from them."

"Harry, this is vital information; I must insist it be kept a secret."

"Well it certainly will be if you're not going to tell _us_ ," he shrugged, emphasising the last word. He made to get up and leave.

"Harry, you _must_ come back to Hogwarts so I can talk to you about all this."

"All what?" Albus bit back a reply as he looked warily about the room. "Is that all you've got?" Harry asked dismissively.

"Harry, Voldemort will return, the events of the last year show that plainly."

"We stopped him, just like we," he gestured to Hermione, "stopped him in our first year. For him to try this again would require another devoted follower to risk everything, like Crouch did, or someone too desperate to have other options, like Wormtail. With them both dead, many of the rest in Azkaban and others," he thought on the likes of Malfoy's father, "enjoying their cushy lives without him being there, I don't see anyone else trying to bring him back in a hurry."

"Harry, he _will_ be back," Dumbledore insisted, "and you _need_ me to train you for when that happens!"

" _What_ training?" Harry spat. "I gave you _proof_ he was back in my first year and you've not even _mentioned_ training or anything else in the past three years! I'll bet if I hadn't left Hogwarts then you _still_ wouldn't be talking about any training and, for whatever reason, this is some scheme of yours to keep me at Hogwarts. Well it's not going to work." When Dumbledore didn't respond he stood and declared, "It looks like we're done then." And, ignoring the plaintive cries from the old wizard, Harry walked out of the room, followed by Fleur and Hermione.

"You've done it now, Albus," Sirius told him with a hint of sorrow. "If you really _did_ have something to tell him, you just blew chance here to tell Harry what you wanted him to know. Now he thinks you were just stringing him along and didn't have anything to say at all, come to think of it so do I. I doubt you'll ever see him again, certainly not before he finishes school."

"But… but there's so much that he needs to learn from me!" Dumbledore protested.

"And yet when you had the chance today, you told him precisely nothing of consequence, Albus; that's why he's gone and you won't see him again." He and M Delacour followed the teenagers out of the room, leaving a frustrated Dumbledore trying to force his way through the connection; the magical shields in the room recognised his attempted intrusion and expelled him violently back into his office at Hogwarts; he sat up panting heavily and feeling every one of his advanced years, along with a lot of very sore body parts. The annoyed wizard punched the floor with all the strength he could muster, adding a bruised and painful hand to the rest of his woes.

 _Delacour home,_

 _Lille_

The group were quiet and thoughtful as they returned; this was never going to last too long as a boisterous Gabrielle began pleading with Harry to go swimming with her, much to everyone's amusement.

"Are you coming?" he asked Hermione.

"I will," she confirmed, "I just wanted to ask Fleur something first." Hermione turned to Harry's girlfriend. "I know the students who came with you last year wore the school's robes but I didn't see anything else," as Sirius gave a choking noise and Harry and Fleur both grinned she blushed and hurried on, "I meant like House identification," she added sniffily, "I don't recall seeing anything like that on the robes of the students who visited us."

"No, we have nothing like that," Fleur explained. "Classes are arranged by ability."

"Remember?" Harry prompted. "Fleur said earlier in the summer that when we receive our book lists we'll also be told when to arrive; it will be a couple of days before the other students so they can test us in all our subjects."

"Right," Hermione nodded. "I'm glad you told me about being able to do magic at home this summer so I could practice at least. But… ok, there's no houses or their insignia, but what else do people usually wear, like underneath their robes?"

Harry shot a sly glance at his lover. "Well, _sometimes_ Fleur wore underwear," he grinned.

Hermione blushed a little. "And at other times?" she continued with a hint of trepidation.

"Those other times I _didn't_ wear underwear underneath them," Fleur stated matter-of-factedly; she, Harry and Gabrielle sniggered as Hermione gaped and reddened.

"I'll probably wear a T-shirt and jeans under mine most days, something like that, depending on the weather," Harry eased her tension.

"That's because you're a wimp," Gabbi piped up, causing everyone to laugh at Harry as well. "Now come on, swimming," she demanded taking both Harry and Fleur by the hand and dragging them out to the pool.

 _Sirius's house,_

 _Tuesday, 30th_ _August 1995_

"Harry," Sirius knocked on his godson's door, "an owl has just arrived with something for you; it has the Beauxbatons school crest on it."

"Ok, I'll be right out," Harry mumbled. He stumbled out of bed and pulled on some underwear before meeting his godfather at the door.

"It's a timed Portkey," he explained after reading the note. "It's to take me there at midday for a couple of days of tests before we start class with the rest of the students next week."

"You'd better let your girlfriend know," the ex-Marauder smirked.

"I'll head over after breakfast; I've already got a couple of days of things packed, since she warned me earlier that this would happen." Harry ducked back into his room and picked up the holdall he'd prepared a few days ago.

"When do you think you'll be back?"

"Uh," he scanned the letter again, "we're to be there until classes begin. After that we can come and go as we please so definitely I'll be there until Monday. After that," he shrugged, "I'll try and get home as often as I can really."

 _Wednesday, August 31_ _st_ _1995_

Harry reluctantly disentangled himself from his girlfriend; he smiled at Sirius and the Delacours as he stepped outside the boundary of the property, clutching the letter in one hand and his holdall in the other; a familiar tug of his navel saw him disappear from the street.

 _Beauxbatons Academy of Magic,_

 _Marseilles,_

Harry appeared by the rather imposing main gates of the school. "Harry!" He heard Hermione's familiar voice and was engulfed by her hug.

"Hi Hermione, here we are then," he noted. "Oh," his eyes widened as two other kids (a boy and a girl) appeared before his eyes; both were younger than he and Hermione and looked rather nervous. He greeted them in French, causing Hermione to release him and turn to face them.

From their conversation, Harry and Hermione learnt that the newcomers were Swiss, twins and would be entering the third year at the school.

"Welcome," the quartet heard the booming voice of half-giantess headmistress Olympe Maxime behind them; she stood by the gates and a wave of her wand saw them open creakily, allowing the kids to enter, "to Beauxbatons. It is wonderful to see you all again."

The kids greeted her as they walked through the opened gates onto the school's grounds. There was a surprise for them when she introduced Professor Barthez. "He is your Defence Instructor. Please follow him; he will conduct your theory and practical tests."

"Now?" Hermione squeaked; she had been expecting to at least have a chance to set her things down and do some last-second cramming.

"Certainly," Maxime nodded.

"You would not be attacked to a schedule that suits you; you should be ready at all times," Barthez added; Harry thought he sounded like Moody, then he realised that he sounded like _Crouch_ sounding like Moody – then his head began to hurt so he began thinking about all the spells he'd learnt for the tournament and which of them he'd need to know for this afternoon.

 _Defence Classroom_

"Each of you will have one hour and thirty minutes for the written paper," Barthez explained once they were seated at desks. "Additionally there will be a thirty minute demonstration of your skills during this session. So," he glanced at the list, "Marie Laroque, you first for the demonstration. The rest of you may begin."

Hermione frowned, not wanting the disruption of leaving for the practical midway through the paper but, seeing Harry already beginning to write (while Marie's brother read through the first questions on his paper) she picked up her quill, dipped it in the inkwell on the desk and looked at the first question.

Marie returned after her demonstration; her brother Georges was then invited to follow the instructor while the two would-be fifth years continued to write. Hermione snuck a few looks at Harry; she was surprised to see him smiling broadly while answering the questions (she knew Defence was easily his best subject but wasn't expecting him to excel at the written paper the way he seemed to be; clearly, she thought, he'd been working a lot with Fleur over the summer).

Harry looked up as Barthez and Georges returned; he was wondering who would be called and was slightly pleased to hear Hermione's name called; he had almost finished the paper and would be glad of the chance to do so without having to leave and come back to it. He set down his quill about ten minutes later, reading through his answers and smiling in satisfaction at what he felt was a job well done. He closed his eyes, using some of the meditation techniques the Delacours had taught him to prepare himself; soon enough he was called through by the teacher.

"Now, M Potter," Barthez began calmly before spinning round and pointing his wand at the teenager. " _Impedimenta!_ "

Harry had had his wand in his hand when walking through to the practical area; he raised it instinctively and yelled " _Protego!_ " Barthez's spell rebounded into the wall behind him and his eyes widened. " _Expelliarmus!_ " Harry backed up his shield by disarming his shocked teacher; he caught the wand easily, eyes never leaving the Frenchman while he continued to cover him with his own wand.

"Excellent," Barthez sounded impressed. "I did not expect you to know the shield charm, let alone cast one strong enough to deflect my spell completely. You also didn't hesitate but disarmed me right away, an excellent defensive tactic. If I had to be super-critical I would say you could have stunned me." Then he smiled. "Maybe you thought you'd be in trouble before you even started school if you stunned a teacher."

"I have your wand," Harry explained, "and I was watching you carefully. If you'd reached for a spare wand I'd have had my stunner off before you could draw it."

Barthez nodded at Harry's logic. He then proceeded to put the boy through his paces in a number of other situations requiring defensive spells; with his experience of recent years and the spells he'd learnt for the tournament, Harry felt he'd aced this part of the test.

Once the session was over they returned to the classroom where the other three new students were instructed to stop writing. Hermione set her quill down and began to frantically scan her parchment, fretting over her answers and whether everything was perfect or not. The twins, meanwhile, just smiled at one another with a shared feeling of relief.

"If you will follow me, we will go to lunch," Barthez announced; they stood and dutifully filed out of the room.

 _Great Hall_

"After lunch you will have your Potions and Transfiguration theory papers," Maxime told them; the quartet nodded. "Your practicals in them will be after dinner then Astronomy tonight. We are supposed to have a cloudless night."

"Are you staying with Care of Magical Creatures and Divination?" Hermione asked Harry as they sat at their table once the Headmistress had left them.

"No," he shook his head. "Care isn't offered here and I've no interest in Divination after two years of Trelawney."

"Oh," she hadn't realised that, expecting to be able to continue with Magical Creatures. "Well, what are you doing then?"

"Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes," he answered, much to her amazement. "Don't look so surprised," he chided gently with a grin, "Fleur was helping me all summer with them. It was intensive but we got through the third and fourth year Beauxbatons curriculum in them."

"Oh," she repeated. "I'd have helped if I'd known." She felt a little put out that Harry had been doing so much study and that she hadn't been involved in it.

"Well you were spending the summer with your parents, helping them find a house and things," Harry reasoned. "We didn't think you'd have time," then he grinned, "now that you don't have the time turner anymore."

* * *

A relieved Harry exited the Potions Laboratory after their aptitude test; it had been tough, as had the rest of the afternoon with the written papers and Transfiguration tests, but the amount of work he'd done with Fleur over the past few months had really paid off, he felt. The written tests had been fairly straightforward and the potions he'd brewed in the afternoon appeared to be pretty good. Better, she huffed, than Hermione's had, judging by the looks of them.

"I wish _I'd_ had someone to help me practice with this summer," she complained.

"Well it was either that or spend time with your parents," he reminded her before smiling. "You _could_ have insisted on practicing when you came over nearly every day for the last month or so. I'm a little surprised you _didn't_. Maybe you're mellowing," he chuckled. Hermione gave a weak smile as they headed to dinner.

"Anyway, why did you decide to take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy?" she asked. "You never did say."

"I… and Fleur," he conceded, "felt they'd be more use to me than Divination. She'd also told me they don't study Care of Magical Creatures, not having the forest like Hogwarts does, but put Creatures into other subjects, mostly History and a little in Potions when dealing with animals like Bicorns whose shed horns are used."

Hermione nodded at his explanation. "So I needed two new subjects," he continued. "Muggle Studies would be useless; I was raised muggle, like you, and so at best it would be a good skive but I didn't want to be thinking of doing that. The material was really interesting and it was actually enjoyable to study it."

"Ok, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" she demanded playfully; he laughed along with her.

"I suppose I got a new attitude from spending time with Fleur," he replied. "I don't want to blame Ron – I made my choices about not studying as much as I could and should have for years – but being more focussed on learning has really helped."

"Whoever would have thought that?" she asked in a mock-shocked voice. "Oh, that's right, me; I've been _telling_ you that for _years_."

* * *

Once dinner was over the two soon-to-be fifth years made their way to the Aritmancy classroom. Again Harry was happy for the effort he and Fleur had put in over the summer as he felt fairly comfortable throughout the paper. As ever, Hermione wanted to carry out a post-mortem on the paper and was talking through every question; Harry was glad to discover that his answers, for the most part, matched with hers.

They met up again with the twins, who didn't have tests as the new subjects would only just be beginning for them as third years, and as they still had a little time before it got dark and their Astronomy tests could take place, Maxime led them all to their new common rooms. After showing them the 3rd floor area and leaving the younger students to make themselves at home, she took Harry and Hermione to the 5th year common room. Unlike Hogwarts' houses these wasn't password protected (instead the common room was accessible by anyone and the assigned dormitory doors charmed to only open to the unique magical signature of their denizens) meaning that while they had their private sanctuary (and the security of it) fraternisation between different year groups was encouraged, especially as professors would often encourage older pupils to tutor their younger schoolmates if they were struggling. Prefects would regularly patrol the rooms and any word of bullying of the younger students would swiftly see the perpetrators dealt with by the staff (just one of the reasons Maxime had been so shocked by the lack of reaction from Hogwarts' staff to Malfoy's insulting of Harry and Fleur in the Great Hall earlier in the year). Maxime declared that, as new arrivals, Harry would be in 5G12 and Hermione in 5F12; she led Harry through the door marked _Garcons_ and adapted the charm on door 12 to include him before taking Hermione through the _Filles_ door and repeating the adaptation. Once the two had their beds prepared and things where they needed them, they met again in the common room to have a last look-over of their notes ahead of the evening test before heading to the main tower and meeting another of their new teachers.

"We are lucky; there are no clouds tonight," the teacher, Mme Capella, declared. "I have set up your telescopes. They will help you with the tests."

The students took their places and began.

 _Thursday, 1_ _st_ _September 1995_

"How did you do?" Hermione asked as they exited the history classroom. They had chatted a little after the Astronomy test (both feeling they'd done quite well) before spending a comfortable night in their new surroundings, knowing it would be the only night when they would have it all to themselves. Hermione slept well, Harry rather less so; it was a strange experience for him to be sleeping apart from Fleur, and not a pleasant one. Harry was now certain that he would be travelling home for as many nights as he possibly could.

"Not all that well," he admitted, thinking back on the paper he'd just written. "I had a crash course in French Magical History from the Delacours but couldn't remember many of the dates, or the context of a lot of the events, just the significant events. Most of them came up so I answered _something_ for all the questions but…" he shrugged, "I didn't do brilliantly. You?"

"I remembered a lot of the things I saw and studied when I was on holiday here a couple of years ago," she disclosed. "It helped that I wrote most of it for Binns's homework that summer too, which helped me to recall it. Writing it in _French_ instead was a little tricky but I'm _hoping_ that I got everything right."

"I'm sure you did, you always do," he grinned, both praising and teasing the witch; she gave a small glower but inside she felt quite pleased. "Anyway, we have Charms now so we don't have time to dwell on it."

"No, it's all been quite intensive."

"Just how you like it," he playfully elbowed her in the ribs; she laughed.

* * *

Hermione had been dreading this afternoon. After spending the morning finishing the academic tests and having a light lunch it was time for the Fitness and Physical Education evaluations. She had never been an athlete (preferring her books and academia) and it had been something of a relief to her that there was no focus on fitness in the Hogwarts curriculum.

The four new students stood at one end of the Quidditch pitch with their instructor; Maxime stood at the other end. Their first task, they were told, was to sprint to her end and back. The instructor blew his whistle and they set off, with Harry establishing an immediate lead (given the speed he'd developed in order to avoid his cousin Dudley and his gang while growing up).

He easily reached Maxime, stepping over the whitewashed line before turning as the Headmistress fired a few green sparks into the air. He passed the twin third years and felt a few twinges of sympathy as he saw Hermione gamely bringing up the rear.

The twins, meanwhile, were revelling in the competition. While the girl was an inch or so taller and thus had slightly longer legs, she lacked her brother's raw power and was pushing and straining every sinew in an attempt to keep pace with him. She turned a fraction early, under the unfortunately watchful eye of the Headmistress, who sent up a few red sparks for her and green for her sibling, and just about matched him until halfway up the pitch (by which time Harry had finished) before having to admit the punishing pace was too much for her. She kept going but finished a few seconds behind her brother, sinking to the ground while he, like Harry, stood hunched over with his hands on his knees and sucked in some welcome, deep breaths.

Hermione battled gamely, refusing to give in and crossed the line a distant fourth but her natural mortification at coming a poor last was blended with a feeling of euphoric pleasure at having at least completed the task. Her legs refused to support her any longer, however, and she found herself on the floor desperately getting air into her lungs while Harry had more or less recovered and was taking a long and welcome draught from a water bottle.

The quartet's next test was at the school's swimming pool; Harry now understood why Fleur had had them spend so long in the Delacour's pool (although the opportunity to frolic nude together in the water was no doubt another reason). Hermione performed better on this task (as she was more used to swimming from her holidays in France) and while she still finished 4th of the four, it was far closer (Harry was, again, the fastest).

The final part of this evaluation was the students' flying prowess. As Maxime and the other students who had attended Hogwarts last year as part of the Beauxbatons contingent had told the story of Harry's epic flight against the Hungarian Horntail dragon (and it had also become known to them that he was the starting seeker on the reigning Hogwarts Quidditch champion team) it seemed that every teacher in the school was there to see him fly. He didn't disappoint.

The school's test comprised of the students using a selection of brooms (a Nimbus 1990, a Cleansweep 3 and a Comet 100 – older brooms that the school owned). The Nimbus was built for speed and allowed the school to gauge the students' comfort in flying fast, how willing they were to push a broom to its limits, handling turns at speed and so on, while the Cleansweep's superior handling tested their ability to memorise and carry out more acrobatic manoeuvres (and it was, the Headmistress commented, the broom of choice for Quidditch keepers at the school). The Comet was more of a Jack of all Trades and its age (and known defects in developing biases in its handling with time) tested a student's ability to adapt to a broom that didn't behave as one would expect.

Harry did manage to avoid laughing as Hermione struggled with the Comet; the second it started to deviate she lost all speed and confidence in it, coasting along at low speed and mere inches from the ground as she hung on for grim death. She had been back on terra firma for around half a minute before they were able to prise her shaking hands off the broom handle.

Once the tasks were completed a few covetous and envious glances were sent in the direction of Harry's Firebolt, which he had brought with him. The instructor asked him to show his handling of the world class broomstick and Harry, deprived of too many opportunities to fly over the past few months, was more than happy to oblige, stunning the gathering with his total mastery of the broom and ability to perform outstanding manoeuvres at break-neck speed. Despite being willing to offer the rather envious younger students an opportunity to try it out (he grinned as he also offered it to Hermione; her tan seemed to vanish in a heartbeat at the suggestion) the teachers were adamant that a lot more tuition was needed before they would be letting any of them near Harry's broom.

"Ok everyone," Maxime declared, "freshen up and meet us for dinner in half an hour. You will be told your results and what class you are in then."

Hermione swallowed nervously (Harry seemed rather more laissez-faire about it, as did the twins) and the four headed back to the castle to hear their fates.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading, as always please feel free to drop a review; I appreciate your feedback. PD**


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